


At Ease

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Series: Valentine's Kisses 2019 [30]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friends to More Than Friends, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 12:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17601659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: Kunimi was ailing, so Kindaichi did what any concerned friend would do and took care of him in every way he knew how.





	At Ease

After the third sneeze that practically shocked all of practice to a stop, Kindaichi looked over at Kunimi to see him hunched over, struggling for breath and shaking.

Of course, when Kindaichi had asked Kunimi earlier during class if he was coming down with something, he had denied it. Now Kunimi was sick and miserable and ready to pass out, and Kindaichi hated every second of it.

Dropping the ball in his hands, Kindaichi went over to put an arm around Kunimi’s shoulders and steer him toward the club room. “You should just go home before it gets worse.”

“Right now, I happen to agree,” Kunimi said through his disease-caked nose. He was just able to cover his face with the hem of his t-shirt before unleashing a rough coughing fit that sent a pang of sympathy right through Kindaichi.

Before they exited the gym, Kindaichi called over to Mizoguchi, “Hey, Coach, can I take Kunimi home?”

Mizuguchi harrumphed. “As long as you don’t end up sick, too. We have a practice match in a week.”

“Thanks, Coach.” Without another look back, Kindaichi prodded Kunimi toward his bag to put back on his much warmer school uniform and head out. 

Despite his numerous protests to the contrary, Kunimi clung to Kindaichi’s side, shielding himself from the brisk February wind. The snowy part of winter had already ended, leaving the freezing rain season in its wake. Kindaichi’s umbrella is barely enough coverage for both of them, but his was the larger one and Kunimi could barely keep a grip on the handle of his.

“Thanks, by the way,” Kunimi wheezed. “I was going to stay home from school, but I didn’t want to be bored.”

Kindaichi chuckled. “I don’t know why people call you lazy so much. You’ll literally do anything to keep from being bored.”

Kunimi shrugged and tightened his grip on Kindaichi’s arm as a particularly cutting gust of wind lanced through the streets. His shivering was visible, and Kindaichi’s throat felt tight at the sight. Shucking his own jacket, he draped it around Kunimi and zipped it up arms and all. “Keep warm, okay?”

“You’re going to get sick,” Kunimi answered, but his shuddering was already beginning to subside with the added layer of protection from the chill. 

Kunimi’s house was the closest, but Kindaichi’s was mostly a bus ride and close to all the right stops, so they headed there, instead. Kindaichi’s own goosebumps started to abate after some time soaking in the artificial heat inside the bus, and Kunimi seemed to be breathing a little easier.

“Almost there.” Kindaichi briskly rubbed his arms and took a fortifying breath. “We barely have to make it a block.”

With a crooked smile, Kunimi said, “You know, I am aware of where you live. We’ve been friends for five years.”

“Just making sure.” Kindaichi pouted but leaned into Kunimi to share and store whatever warmth they could before disembarking from the warm, dry bus.

Their return to the outside was like a frigid slap in the face. “Oh my god it’s cold,” Kindaichi hissed. He eyed Kunimi, debating the wisdom of hiking Kunimi over his shoulder and making a run for it.

“Do it,” Kunimi said, tucking the crook of the umbrella handle under his arm. “Let’s get this over with.”

Kindaichi quirked a brow, but Kunimi gave him a firm nod. With a single swift motion, Kindaichi hefted Kunimi over his shoulder like a toddler and ran. 

Rush hour pedestrian traffic was significantly worsened by the fleet of umbrellas shielding their owners from the icy drizzle, but if spending half of life playing competitive sports had taught Kindaichi anything, it was how to change direction in a hurry. He had never tried it with an extra sixty-something kilos of limp person in his arms, but they were already halfway there and nobody had perished yet.

Kindaichi was wheezing by the time he planted Kunimi back on his feet under the awning of his apartment building. While Kindaichi’s frozen fingers fished around for his keys, Kunimi shook the water from the umbrella and tucked it into one of the umbrella bags from the stand next to the door.

Opting for the elevator instead of the stairs for Kunimi’s sake, Kindaichi sent them on their way to the third floor. The chills were already beginning to set back in for Kunimi, and Kindaichi swore under his breath, willing the elevator to hurry the hell up and let them out.

Inside the tiny but homey Kindaichi abode, Kunimi’s cool skin began blooming pink from the wall of lingering warmth. “Go take a hot shower,” Kindaichi ordered, “and I’ll find you something warm to wear.”

Kunimi headed off to do as he was told, and Kindaichi flitted around the apartment, doing this and that in preparation for taking care of his ailing friend. Kotatsu, fired up. Takeout, ordered. Kettle, on. Pile of blankets, acquired.

By the time he heard the shower turn off, Kindaichi realized he still hadn’t gathered a change of clothes for Kunimi. He sprinted into his room and delved into a basket of clean laundry he hadn’t put away yet and extracted two pairs of thick socks, fleece pajamas he was already growing out of anyway, and an ancient hoodie that was faded but still warm and comfortable. 

He skidded to a stop just as Kunimi emerged from the bathroom, swaddled in Kindaichi’s bathrobe, hair wet and askew. “Oh, thanks.” Kunimi took the bundle and slinked back into the steaming bathroom, and Kindaichi took the opportunity to peel away his own soggy clothing. 

Once he was dry and bundled in similar fashion, Kindaichi realized how cold he had really been. When he was reacting to Kunimi’s distress, he hadn’t even noticed his discomfort. However, now that they were both safe and dry, the cold really began to radiate from his very bones. 

Kunimi padded into the living room, decked out in the old pajamas, printed with smiling Sudowoodos. They had been a cringey gift from his mother almost five years before, but damn it all if they weren’t the warmest thing he’d ever worn.

“How do you even still fit in these?” Kunimi asked marking the way the hems fell right where they were supposed to on him, which meant they were far too small for Kindaichi’s much lankier frame. “I kind of want to steal these. They’re so warm.”

Kindaichi gave him a wry smile. “Now you see why I still wear them even though they don’t fit right anymore. They haven’t since we were first years.”

“Touché.” Kunimi made a beeline to the kotatsu, stopping at the couch to burrito himself in one of the waiting blankets but leaving a single arm out to stir a little bit of sugar into his already steeping tea. Kindaichi followed suit, and in moments, they were both piled together under the warm kotatsu blanket and sipping tea that was still a little too hot but felt too good to stop drinking.

Fishing in the couch cushions for the remote, Kindaichi found it and turned on the tv. He blanched when the local network dedicated to cooking popped up, and the opening music for his favorite show (a program about competitive cake decorating) began to roll.

“How did that get there?” Kindaichi squeaked, and he fumbled with the remote in his haste to change it. 

Kunimi nearly slapped the remote right out of Kindaichi’s hand. “Leave that there. I love this show.” He gave Kindaichi an incredulous look. “And so do you. Don’t think for a second I don’t know.”

“What — I — uh . . . sure.” Kindaichi put the remote back on the kotatsu and left his guilty pleasure for any and all to see. They were the only ones there, but it still smacked of being the least manly thing he could have been watching other than shoujo anime or holiday movies about hugging and crying.

Eyes glued to the set, Kunimi was rapt as he watched professional bakers run around like their pants were on fire to do an unreasonable amount of work in an even more unreasonable timespan. That was the fun of it, Kindaichi thought. Apparently, Kunimi agreed.

Just as the first commercial break hit, there was a knock at the door. Kindaichi snatched the neatly folded bills he had left on the kitchen counter and headed toward the door to retrieve their dinner. A white paper bag from the Vietnamese place down the street settled down midway between them.

Kindaichi unpacked the meal, a family size pork stir fry and a heap of fried tofu. Two huge sides of rice steamed merrily from their styrofoam containers, and a couple of paper plates included in the bag found themselves heaped with more food than two people should eat. Just enough for a night in, Kindaichi thought.

The show was nearly over and their food almost gone before Kunimi set down his chopsticks and said, “I should’ve said this earlier, but I really appreciate all this. You didn’t have to do any of it.”

“Yeah, I did.” Kindaichi gave Kunimi a crooked smile. “When you feel bad, so do I. Consider it . . . vicarious self-care.”

A wide, warm smile spread across Kunimi’s face. It was a rare thing, and Kindaichi could only recall a few scant times he had encountered it, but it was all the more beautiful because of that. Few things brought Kunimi sheer joy, and somewhere deep in his belly, Kindaichi appreciated the idea that he just might be one of them.

There were only a few scraps of food left after they were both stuffed, which Kindaichi piled into a stray styrofoam bowl for a snack later. Not that he thought he’d feel like eating for the next hundred years or so. He quickly cleaned the rest up, and he settled back next to Kunimi and back into their bubble of ease and contentment. 

Kunimi soon slumped against his shoulder, the soft scratch of his harassed sinuses through his earloop mask louder than Kunimi’s usual quiet doze, and Kindaichi was not far behind. Before he drifted off, he switched off the kotatsu and raked his gaze over Kunimi’s limp form. 

With a sigh that nearly turned into a yawn, he leaned forward and brushed a kiss to Kunimi’s temple. “I hope you feel better soon,” he whispered. 

Kindaichi almost jumped out of his skin when Kunimi’s sleep-logged voice replied, “You big softie.”

“Hey, you’re supposed to be asleep.” 

Kunimi snorted. “I can make fun of you while asleep. It’s in the best friends contract.”

“That’s not a real thing.” 

Spidering his arms around Kindaichi, Kunimi muttered into his shoulder, “It was in the homework you forgot to do.”

Wide awake and heart beating in panic, Kindaichi groaned. “Oh, man. I knew I was forgetting something.”

“Relax.” Kunimi nuzzled Kindaichi’s bicep. “I made that up. Go to sleep, Yuutarou.”

His given name wasn’t something that Kunimi used often. Even when they were twelve, Kindaichi wasn’t ‘Yuu-chan’ like he was to the rest of their batch. Just plain old Kindaichi. 

When he thought about it, he couldn't remember the last time he had used Kunimi’s given name, either. However, this day was different from all the other normal days where they plowed through their days with varying levels of enthusiasm.

“Goodnight, Akira.” 

Kunimi pressed a kiss to Kindaichi’s collarbone through his shirt, and Kindaichi could feel the smile through his clothes. 

“Much better.” With that, Kunimi was definitely asleep and Kindaichi was soothed once again by the gentle ease that always seemed to rest between them.


End file.
